by Xander Hades
He’d paid for that too. He’d been beat up pretty bad, but was still very much alive.
“I hear one of mine caused you injury,” Fingers said, sounding as smug I ever heard. “I present him to you. He’s yours.”
“So are you Fingers,” Michael said. “You’re mine.” He raised his voice to be heard by everyone. “All your men are mine.” He paused. “And hers.” He nodded at me. “We run The Outfit. Our families have run The Outfit for decades and have done right by all of you. But this,” He bent and helped the man up. “THIS IS HOW FINGERS CARES FOR HIS OWN!” He handed the wretch off to Daddy who surprised me by helping the guy find a chair.
Imagine. Dinky D’Angelo himself, the highest boss in The Outfit helping a thug to find a chair. That image must have stuck in the minds of those gathered. I could see the regular boys looking around at each other.
“If you disarm now, you’re welcomed back to the fold,” Michael said. No one moved.
“You got what…a hundred guys?” Fingers said, his voice ringing out happily. He raised an arm into the air and snapped his fingers. The mercs moved, reaching inside their jackets.
Michael cried “NOW!”
The way Michael explained it to me, once people can classify you as having a menial job, no one pays attention anymore. Our delay had not only forced Fingers to move too soon, it gave the workers time to cluster behind the mercs. As they drew, plates clattered to the floor, water cans fell and three hundred young men pulled some incredible weaponry from uniform white jackets.
Fingers didn’t budge. “Nice.” He said, appreciative. Stupid as they come.
A short man, built like a fireplug, with muscles that didn’t want to stay inside the jacket he tried to wear walked up and hugged Michael.
“Congrats, hitman,” he said smiling.
“Deanna,” Michael’s smile was pure pleasure. “Rocky. Rocky, this is my partner and soon to be wife, Deanna.”
“Charmed.” He actually kissed my hand. It was like a pitbull trying to meow, but the attempt was so… well, charming.
“Rocky is a cage fighter, he’s done a few championship meets.”
“Still going,” Rocky smiled. “I’ll have the belt next year.”
“These are his friends,” Michael said, looking mighty smug. I was in on this plan, Michaels introductions were for Finger’s sake. “They call themselves the Banditos. They’re out of LA. I invited them.”
“We seem to have a standoff.” Fingers said still smiling, though his smile was looking rather strained. We all looked around. Most of the mercs had gotten to draw, and they were facing off the Banditos, who also had guns drawn. Fingers was right. It was a standoff so classic it belonged in one of those old black and white Western movies. One person doing something stupid and we were all done. I noticed the priest wasn’t in a hurry anymore. He was under the buffet table.
“Listen,” Michael said.
“Thunder?” Fingers laughed. “There is always thunder in New Orleans. It rains a lot.” The last was spoke to me as if I couldn’t understand was thunder was.
But thunder rolls in over the hills and dissipates. This just kept coming and coming and coming.
Up the drive, much to the consternation of the wealthy patrons who jumped out of the way came the gleam and roar of hundreds of motorcycles. The riders wore helmets in deference to the state law, but they wore light shirts, jackets with cutoff arms and each and every one of them sported an image burned onto their clothing I couldn’t quite make out.
They parked in a circle around the park, each bike terrifyingly close to the next, and the man at the front drove his over the lawn, through the flowers and right up to our gathering.
Climbing off the bike was the largest, most gorgeous bronze-skinned man I have ever seen. A good seven-foot-tall, he looked like he should have been carved of marble and left in a museum somewhere for safety sake.
He walked up to us and spread his arms. “Hitmon!” He called Michael clasped his hand and the giant sucked him in tight and hugged. “Rocky!” He made it sound like “Roooki.” Where the cage fighter was short and thick, this man was just gigantic. He pounded Rocky so hard my teeth chattered.
“Hoodoo,” Michael said pointing at me, “this is…”
During this exchange, the men Fingers had hired looked at the odds. Men hired to fight do not fight past a certain point. Fanatics and desperate men would take these odds, mercenaries know better. All around us, pistols were hitting the floor like a thunderstorm at the NRA.
Fingers found himself without support. He wanted to bolt, but there were too many guns pointed at him. So as I reached out to Hoodoo, fearing I would be lifted in the air, I found myself being grabbed and spun.
Fingers had a knife against my throat.
“Mon seen too many bad movie…” Hoodoo grumbled. Michael’s men, which now included Finger’s former men, tensed. If I was killed, Fingers would be dead before he hit the ground. The problem was, I wasn’t sure that Fingers cared anymore.
Michael had picked out the dress. I even allowed him to dress me this morning. In the heat of New Orleans I wore a dress that looked like a meringue. Under that, I wore leather pants that were chafing and making me sweat like a horse. Strapped to my thigh, I wore one of Michael’s chisels.
I looked at Michael. I grabbed the handle through the cloth. He nodded.
Fingers screamed as the chisel entered his thigh and dropped the knife. So maybe it was a little showy. I’d also had a gun. And a more classic blade. But I’d really liked that chisel…
Rocky grabbed the blade and held it up.
Hoodoo grabbed Fingers and held him up higher.
“Hoodoo.” Michael said, “Why don’t you take him to your grandmother as a gift from me?”
Hoodoo’s smile was large, but not warm.
I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to be on Hoodoo’s bad side.
Then into the midst of the chaos, I felt Michael’s hand reach for my own. Fingers intertwined. In the midst of chaos, I had come home.
“ATTENTION!” Michael yelled to the crowd. “I’m getting married today. And today I have a partner in life, love, and business.” He tugged on my hand and brought me to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, WE are The Outfit.”
I’d never felt so proud in my life. I turned my head and looked at him, really looked at him, seeing him like I’d never seen him before in my life.
My friend.
My lover.
My partner.
Everything I’d ever wanted…that I’d never known just how much I’d needed until now. God, I loved him.
Then our eyes met and I saw just how much he loved me too.
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed me. Then pulled me close for a real kiss, though according to some wedding tradition somewhere it had to be bad luck.
Screw that, we’d make our own luck.
Then he looked out to the crowd of friends, of relatives, of allies, and well, a whole lot of people who were going to be learning what it meant to part of this whole new world that was starting here today. It was exciting. It was new. It was ours.
Only we needed to get this show on the road.
Michael must have agreed for it was his voice that rang out over the melee. “Hey! Don’t you think it’s high time I married someone? Someone find us that priest!”
The End
(Keep Reading to find out more)
Just for you!
Do you want to find out what kind of Christmas present Micheal had in mind for Deanna ? He sent his biker friend Hoodoo to collect this “present” for him but the trip turned out to be a big surprise for Hoodoo!
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P.S. This is a short complementary story. Hope you enjoy it!
Author’s Note
Thanks for reading my book..
By the way, I’m Xander Hades.
I write about alpha bad boys who had fallen hard for their women. Mafia, Bikers, Fighters, …yea you get that.
The tougher they look, the harder they fell. These beasts knew no bounds when it comes to protecting what’s theirs.
Check out my Facebook Page if you don’t want to miss my upcoming new releases.
Have a Nice Day!
Xander
